The Trumpeteer

Catmoot, Chapter 12
Sleepers Awake!

CHAPTER 12
SLEEPERS AWAKE!

The President of the United States had never quite got over the visit of the St Colette, the cats, and the celestial animals, not to mention the Brontosaurus breaking one of his windows in the White House. However He was feeling, on this glorious November day, on tip top form. He was getting rid of lots of people who disagreed with him, and that was a very pleasant feeling. He was making sure that the military were cleansed of all the people who disagreed with him, especially generals. In the not too distant future everyone would agree with him, including all the American people, for in his eyes he was America. But I am sure that Maureen O’Hara would definitely disagree with him, and would feel that her dear friend John Wayne, the legendary film star and cowboy hero par excellence, was the absolute embodiment of America, or what America should be. She had said as much, not long after the great man had died, but then John Wayne achieved so much by his acting, whereas the President’s acting was so contrived by comparison, and was not doing anything for the American dream, bar turning it into some dreadful nightmare.

The angel standing beside the president knew that Obama, in the eternal plan of things, was in grave danger. The President looked up from his desk and gasped, and said “Who are you?” The angel answered in a voice like a sparkling mountain stream “I, Barak, am your guardian angel!”
The President having recovered from the shock of the angel’s appearance asked in a very matter of fact way “What do you want?”. “I would like you to come with me?”. Barak Obama smiled a rather condescending smile and said, “And where do you intend to take me?”
“Ah that is not for you to know?” “Why should I trust you?” said Barak. “Why indeed should you, when your mentor, Saul Arlinksy, was known to admire Lucifer.” When the angel said the name Lucifer his face became incredibly serious, and solemn. The angel continued “With friends like Saul Arlinsky, your soul is in a bad way. You do know that don’t you?” “I know nothing of the kind.” said the President, almost snarling. “Barak, if you do not come with me,” the angel said “ you will not be helping to bring peace to the World, but you must trust me, after all I have been with you from the moment of your conception, and I am your guide and your guard, and you have spent most of your life running away from me. Now I am going to recite the Our Father, and if by the end of it you show no sign of wanting to come with me, I cannot vouch for the consequences.”

The angel began not to say the Our Father, but to sing it. You or I listening to it would have been overwhelmed by the beauty of the song, which reminded one of Rachmaninov’s beautiful setting. Barak, however, did not hear beautiful music, and could not make out the words. He simply heard ugly sounds as he pursed his lips in the mood of a petulant teenager. The Angel finished the Our Father, and said “My child are you going to come with me?”. “No!” shouted Obama, and so the Angel left, and in that instant the President of the United States forgot that the angel had ever been there, and he also forgot St. Colette and the cats and the Brontosaurus. However, what was so tragi was that now almost, from the heavenly point of view, he was completely on his own.

“Binyamin, wake up, wake up!” Binyamin Netanyahu, who had fallen asleep while watching a late night Television programme, did more than wake up, he almost jumped out of his skin. Before the Prime Minister of Israel could say a word, the speaker said “Now my dear child, you are coming with me. We are going to Russia.” “Of course I’m going to Russia. I have a meeting with President Putin on November 20th” “Ah, Binyamin, but this is another meeting.” said the speaker, who was an extraordinarily beautiful nun, dressed in a lovely grey habit. Smiling with a beautifully quizzical smile the nun continued. “And what is all this nonsense we hear about Israel being so het up about nuclear power stations in Persia, and the possibility of them making those grotesque nuclear weapons, which you and so many powerful countries have. In this supposedly egalitarian and democratic world, the democratic nations are the worst, when it comes to who should have nuclear weapons or not. Have you forgotten what Cyrus did for the people of Israel. He sent your fathers back to Judea and gave permission to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem, and he gave back all the Temple vessels which Nebuchadnezzar had stolen from the Temple. Certainly he was a great friend of God, who is called in the Book of Isaiah “the shepherd of the Lord” and “his anointed”. Then Darius gave the official tax revenues to help rebuild the Temple along with lavish gifts. Has that refreshed your memory?

‘And whatever is needed ---- young bulls, rams, or sheep for burnt offerings to the God of heaven, wheat, salt, wine, or oil, as the priests at Jerusalem require --- let that be given to them day by day without fail, that they may offer pleasing sacrifices to the God of heaven for the life of the king and his sons. Also I make a decree that if anyone alters this edict, a beam shall be pulled out of his house and he shall be impaled upon it, and his house shall be made a dunghill.” (Ezra 6: 9-11) And don’t forget that Queen Esther was married to Xerxes. You can hardly say that you are against the Persians because they are Moslems, as you appear to be as thick as thieves with the Saudis. Nothing could be as odd as this. The Saudis promote the most radical and extreme form of Islam, that even the great Saladin would find hard to stomach. However we in Heaven cannot be dealing with this dangerous childishness, true peace must be the fruit of love and humility and there is sadly a great lack of those two virtues in the World today. All that men are interested in, is power and wealth. Come there is not a moment to lose; here is the gate through which you must pass.” There, before Binyamin was a gate of ivory, encrusted with rubies, pearls and gold, and with the oriental arch surmounted by one of those typical Russian onion domes, which was blue and studied with stars. “Well Binyamin why are you hesitating?”. The reason why Binyamin was hesitating was because the nun was so beautiful, and he was like a child meeting a great and beautiful queen; he was quite overawed if nor floored. “Will we meet again?” he asked. “Oh yes!” replied the nun, and, with a gentle poke and impish smile, she pushed the Prime Minister of Israel through the door.

King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, possibly the richest King in the world, looked out into the night from his bedchamber in his Al-Yamamah palace in Riyadh. His heart was heavy, even as he gazed at this most modern of cities, which seemed to spring out of the desert and had sand running through its veins, if not the blood of men. It might be magnificent in the moonlight and appear to be a cross between some fabled city in the 1,001 nights and a moon colony, but there was something lacking. It was in somewhat bad taste. Albert Speer and Adolf Hitler might well have approved, but on this night neither good taste nor irony were of interest to the puzzled King. He “gazed into the visions of the night”, and behold he saw something that startled and enchanted him. On the crescent moon was standing a lady beautiful beyond imagining. She looked at him with the greatest kindness and in a voice that seemed to bring Heaven to Earth she said. “Abdullah, my little son, why are you so sad?” He looked at her, old man that he was, as if he were a little child. “My Lady, I am wondering what will happen when I die? What will happen to my family, all my money, all my wealth, all my lands, and all my power?” “But my dearest child” the beautiful lady asked “What is wealth when man goes to the grave? Surely you know that all the sons and daughters of Adam will either ascend to Heaven or descend into Hell, will they not? There money, and power, glory, and eminence will be of no use. In death all are the same, but those in Heaven, who were most humble on Earth will be given the greatest glory, for is wisdom not the greatest treasure for the sons of the Prophet? Are you wise, Abdullah, are you humble?” The King was most surprised as no-one had ever asked him such a question. “I have never thought about such things, My Lady.” “Then” replied the Lady with a smile that shone like the Sun, “should you not be thinking of such things as the grave beckons, the Judgment begins, and eternity is knocking at the door of your soul?”

With a heavy sigh the King said “You are right my Lady.” As he was an old man, and ill at that, he sat down to continue his conversation with the beautiful lady. Why it never occurred to him that such a thing was a wonder, showed that he was being enchanted by the Queen of Heaven who is given great honour in the Koran.

Our Lady then said “My Son, you must know that the world is in its last age. You, who wield authority, must try and bring peace to this world. You who believe in God the most merciful, must preach peace, for the sword will only bring sorrow upon sorrow, and turn the earth into a gigantic graveyard. To prevent such a terrible scourge from being unleashed upon this world, I would ask you to come with me to a very special meeting.”

Suddenly, to his amazement, there beside him was the beautiful lady. Standing before him and mirrored in a star studded night, she all but eclipsed its velvet blackness. He dress was white and silver and glittered with sapphires. Her veil was like the blue of the sea, and the diamonds radiated a light beyond compare. “My dear son, let me by your mother” Her eyes looked with such love at him, that he gave his hand to her, and found that he had become small, like a little boy. “Are you not now very happy, my dear little son?” “Yes” the King said and looked at her with wonder, love, and awe.

“Kirill, my Son, I have come to you, for I have important work for you to do, very important.” The Patriarch of Moscow and all Russia had been dreaming, but not an ordinary dream. He was standing in a beautiful garden, filled with fountains and flowers, and trees of every description. In front of him was the Mother of God. On her left were Saints Boris and Gleb, and on her right was St. Vladimir. “Kirill, I am much concerned for your Christian brothers and sisters in the Catholic West” continued the Mother of God. “They are tossed this way and that with heresy. They are almost rudderless. So many of their bishops are not orthodox. Your Latin sister is dying. She needs the help of her Orthodox sister, and she needs the help of Russia. Come to her help, do not worry about the extreme difficulty of the task, trust to my maternal love. Can you do that for me.?” Kneeling down the Patriarch said with deep emotion, “Oh Mother of God, I will, with all my heart, try and do what I can, but you must be with me.” Our Lady continued “Do not fear my son. I will not leave you. Tomorrow the President will come to you at six o’clock in the evening, and at a seven, the guests, the very important guests, will arrive, but do not be surprised at what you see, because it will come as something of a surprise.”

The vision faded, and he had awoken from his slumbers. He was both refreshed and deeply excited at the task he had been given. Lest he forget, as they had promised, Saints Sergius and St Seraphim appeared at the end of his dream. Remember President Putin will be here at five to six, and he will have someone with him. The other important guests will arrive at seven o'clock.